There's No Way
by SevenSi
Summary: Ashe and Vaan are stuck on Phon Coast, and she's not happy about it. [vaan x ashe]
1. Chapter 1

This is for the **FFXII **fandom

**Vaan/Ashe,** implied, _I don't know where this pair came from_, but I wanted to try it.

**Notes:** Ashe and Vaan get stuck on one of the strands on Phon; a temporary discomfort, much to Ashe's displeasure.

Sorry, I haven't updated anything in this pen.

X

* * *

_**Ashe - Don't Interrupt.**_

xxxXxxx

--

Ashe is above the ridge, where the shore is staring up at her, and she fights like a hell-cat.

Her sword is making that noise, the way it slams into those monsters rushing out from the ground.

Even when she is victorious, her body moves fluidly, like an avenging Valkyrie, and he's below watching, his breath caught.

Vaan has his own worries, fighting off his own battles, but his fight with those against him is short. In moments, he has done the deed quicker, with fluid movements.

And he's there, running towards her, where she's at.

She's thrusting with a kind of vigilant severe action, her voice is shouting over the rumble of clouds.

The rain is pouring all around them in small drizzling drops, melding into the shores of the Phon Coast.

There's the calling of the sea breeze, of Archadian air that chokes them both, because she begins to defeat her enemies easily until the last one: The large span of its wing snapping loud, louder than the thunder across the water's horizon. And its beak swoops close to her body, sniping a little bit of exposed skin, scratching and causing her to cry out - fierce, _painfully._

She doesn't really realize that she's falling as her sword hand swings violently, slashing at the wings and the predatory eyes.

She doesn't see anything but the sky above, where the droplets are falling like millions of tiny wet stars.

Vaan moves his legs, fast, his arms stretching. There's nothing but air between them, and she's floating down like a feather.

He's right there, reaching for her, _just like last time_.

His hands are sweaty and there's the scent of her, all sweet and perfume, nothing near as anything he's ever experienced.

She is so light even as she makes that noise, that breathless feminine sound.

It's so easy, setting her close to his chest, her face in the crook of his shoulder, his neck, feels her hot breath there. Because he's still holding her tight against him as he pulls out the crossbow, he is able to land the last arrow into the predator. And when it's done, his hand is still there, fastening around her waist, _too close to her bottom,_ and he's not really noticing too much else as he stares into her eyes.

He can see she is angry again. But _why_ he doesn't know. She makes a move to indicate that she's alright, gently pushing him away, and he lets go, reluctantly.

She doesn't thank him this time, not like the last. He thinks it's because he is too much like a child in her eyes. The way she snorts up at him, or the way she reprimands his jerky movements.

He's had enough.

So he reaches for her as she saunters past, grabbing in an indelicate way.

The touch of her arm, electrifies him. _It shocks her_.

"What is it, Vaan?" She turns to him, glaring.

"That's it?"

"Hmm?"

He reaches behind his head, arms, biceps, all stretched out, doesn't realize how much his chest is sticking out.

"You didn't even say thank you."

She stares at him. Her mouth is open, showing pink tongue.

There's something in her that wants to turn around and ignore him, but she doesn't this time.

A soft sigh escapes her, the fall of her breasts and the steady beating of her heart makes her relax.

"Thank you…" she is thankful that he's always there to catch her.

**X**

Ashe can't help but feel a kinship towards Vaan, ever since they talked last along the river of the Garif.

She is thankful in many ways and feels oddly pleased when he's around.

Perhaps, it is because he watches out for her. Perhaps, even so, he stares often in her direction.

She can feel it. The way his eyes move when she's thinking as she walks along the hard sand of the village.

There's even a time when he follows her, always wants to be in her party, when the group parts ways.

"We should hurry back to the others." She says, quickly, annoyed at the way he is looking at her.

"Yeah, we better." He usually says so much, but this time, he's getting drenched by the water. His pants are moist, and his chest feels the path of running rain water along the muscles of his tight skin. Towards to the V-valley of his pants below. It's uncomfortable, and squeaky noises from the cloth and metal are making him annoyed.

She tries not to notice, because she can't possibly think that Vaan could be anything close to _attractive_. She's particular about her men, and she's keeping those fires burning for her late husband like he's still around.

They realize that the rain is pouring harder, but she doesn't notice anymore, because her hair is plastered against her skull, her clothes and armour too wet.

Angry threats from the sky persists, the lightning is striking down even the man-rays on the shore, the predators with their claws are running fast.

"Oh no." Vaan runs up to the center point of the dividing line. _It's closing up_, and he grabs her, pulls her along.

"Come on, Ashe! We've got to get going!"

_But they're too late._

**X**

They find one of those caves, where treasure is abundant, and the secret hiding places of traveling hunters and prospective treasure seekers rest. It's between the two areas of sandy islands, and the rain is relentless on both sides. Vaan grabs one of the chests, finds more gil to pocket and Ashe is disappointed that there isn't anything else when they're done. They both decide that it'd be best to rest up for the night, at least until the rain stops and the dividing line between the islands open.

**X**

When she is sleeping, he's right there, next to her. She sleeps unhurried, breath soft and easy, like some kind of precious idol he's seen in one of those rooms filled with gold.

But he doesn't realize that she can feel him, all of him, the way his heat is so close inside the cave. Because, It's cold outside, and she's curled up, back against him.

He's been sitting up watching her, doesn't know why he does this, because she_ is_ the Princess.

She's not even Penelo, and that's what makes it all so strange. All this newness, this freshness, and while his childhood friend was small framed, familiar of sweet musky sweat and suede, Ashe is everything close to the wind and the fire. She's the expensive smell of perfume he's only got to whiff when he was in the Palace to steal her stuff. And he can't help himself as he lowers his face to suck in the rest of her.

She slightly stirs and for a moment, he is frightened. He doesn't want her to wake and see him doing this, because it would be too weird. Too strange, and worst of all, he knows more than anything that she's going to reprimand him again, tell him to sleep on the other side of the cave.

Oh – but there isn't any room in here. He bumps his thigh against her back, where her ass is, and he feels the lump in his throat.

It's dark in the cave, and cold, and she's pushing her body against him to conduct heat, find anything to stop the shivering.

She's irritated beyond belief, finding voice in the darkness. "I can't believe you forgot to get the pouch of items." She tells him this the second time, because she can't help it. And because he's too close, too warm.

"I'm sorry, OK?" He tells her back, irritated too. "It's not like I did it on purpose."

He sees that she's shivering, even as his body is so close, _trying_ to be quiet next to her.

"Ashe, let me….hold you."

There, he's said it, and it's not like it's something bad. He is feeling nervous, and he doesn't know why. He just knows that he likes to feel her, touch her, smell her, get closer.

She hesitates for a moment; her eyes are staring straight ahead, but there's nothing but shadows.

Ashe scuttles back a little, making a little whimper, and she is thinking that it's the cold, and wonders too if this cave is cursed.

The noise of the rain is still beating a drum outside, and she's wishing there's a moon out, at least to give some light. But then, Ashe feels his arms, surprisingly strong around her.

He places his chin along the soft rounded shoulders, dips down a little to smell her neck, breathe in her hair. He makes a slight sigh, afraid of the emotions he's experiencing.

"Do you feel better? Warmer?" he hopes that she's not angry at him again.

She mumbles something.

"What?" he leans closer, his lips too close to her lips, his arm tightens around her. The way her body pushes against his groin, he feels something else, and grits his teeth.

"Vaan, let's just try and sleep, and by morning, the rain should subside. The others will come searching, or find us before morning."

"Yes, of course, I want that too. I'm so tired," He really is, but his body wants something else, and he just knows that this discomfort will make him feel lousy come daybreak.

Instead, because he must, Vaan curls up so close, as close as he can ever be with her. His other arm is snaking underneath her body, so that he can get her back _closer_ against him, and he's shivering.

His face buries deep in the moonlight hair, sucking up her scent, touching her arms softly with his fingertips.

It's this that makes her say something. "Vaan, what are you doing?"

"I'm sorry…." He parts his lips, and they're dry. "I was just…"

She turns around, the shuffling noise in the dark and the movement rough. Now, she's up against him, her face screwed up in irritation.

"What are you trying to do?"

"I don't know what you mean…" He really doesn't, but he's guessing it's because he's touching her arm like that. "Is it bad what I'm doing?"

"No…" she can't say for sure he's done anything improper, but she turns around anyway, bent on getting sleep.

She can feel now that he isn't reaching for her, though his body is still close. There's a steady heartbeat in the blackness, it seems to obstruct even her vision, perhaps because there's nothing but his body and his scent. And the sound of heated breaths around them.

"You can hold me…" she tells him after a few moments.

But he doesn't.

And she's just staring at the darkness again, waiting. "Vaan?"

"I'd rather not." He chokes.

He's turning away from her now. His back against hers. And the sound of his silent sobs reaches her ears after awhile.

She wants to tell him something, but instead is silent, grasping for words; she forces her eyes to close, wishing for the day to come.

---


	2. Chapter 2

_**Ashe – You Stole That?** _

_xxx_

It's not as if the rest of the party can't come in, because there's this line, dotted along the rocks, preventing the green scales of fish and amphibians to pass.

It's not as if Fran hasn't seen it coming either. As she plants her legs wide, heels digging into the mud, that she's wary of the mist.

"I don't think it's permanent. Nothing is." She says after awhile, her partner Balthier stands there with the Fomalhaut on his shoulder.

He looks over at her, the faint smile there, almost charming, "You don't see this happening a lot do you? All this mist coming in from all direction. It's not the kind of mist we've seen on the Deadlands."

The sky pirate arches his brow at her, leaning close, "Because, that would be a shame. These hunters wouldn't last a minute." He steals a glance over to the area where the Bangaas are congregating, perhaps discussing how humes lack the ability to hunt like a true hunter should.

"No," she whispers, her eyes are almost brick red in this weather, casting them in clouds and doubts, "It's more like the mist in the Tomb."

"Raithwall?" He is now mildly amused, makes a kind of indelicate snort, the gleam there, showing white teeth, "You think it's Belias? She's got him you know."

"The Esper?" She is drawing her brows close, "No. I can't say what it is really, but whatever it is, has followed us here…"

"And the rain is somehow making this happen?" He can't see how it is possible, so he just looks up, a disdainful expression on his face.

They hear the approaching footsteps, wet and sloshy behind them, and they know it's Penelo and Basch.

Fran continues, "No, it's not the rain. It's the lightning, and the thunder."

Penelo hears it, concern, her face is the vision of worried pain; blue eyes take on that kind of tearful look. "Why can't we just cross through? And use our magick?"

She knows this is ridiculous, but she can't help but say what is on her mind. The fingers before her are fidgeting and reaching up to her pig tails.

Basch's face is as stern as ever, and he can't help that it is all some kind of error on their part, perhaps something he missed along the way here?. He's almost too angry to think. He closes his eyes at the thought of his Majesty without escort, without them, _without him_. And he remembers that Vaan is there, _at least_.

"It pains me that we would have to wait this out." He finally says, watching his companions back away from the dividing line. "I have heard from the locals here that it doesn't happen often, and most of them are waiting things out. There's plenty of food to be had here, over at the main bungalow."

He says this, pain evident in his eyes, and he knows that it's not appropriate. They all stare at him, he knows, because this is hard. Basch seems to find some comfort that only his Sky pirate friend knows...

Balthier understands all too well, the duties of one who takes the knight's path. He's seen it through his travels, and knows from his past, of a judge in training's calling: of duty and falling short of it.

"Cheer up, man," he says to Basch, "it's not the end of the world," Balthier looks around, sighs, "We can't go with a bang without her Princess around."

They hear roaring mirth, of the hunters in the background, the bangaas laughing it up as another hunter comes in to show a trophy. They see the humes by the crates, standing atop them to shout out calls for bets and discuss the secrets of the Coast's hidden treasures.

"Well, then," Balthier adds, feeling a little helpless, "Shall we go back over to the bungalow and divide our gil? I could use something to drink too." But he's just saying that because he's worried a little.

He thinks that this kind of thing was wrong, where they allowed Ashe and Vaan to go off on their own to catch the rare trophy. Yet, he can't help, as he looks at his hand, there – the ribbon he's gotten from the trophies he and Fran took down from the other sections of Phon, that he isn't _too_ upset.

Basch echoes Balthier's earlier thoughts, and though he doesn't know it, they're both wondering when the rain will cease. It's not raining very hard where they're at, but they can hear the thunder rolling on the other side.

And it's night time too, so Penelo's yawns are obvious, even when she's wide-eyed with worry. Even she knows that the Princess and Vaan will be okay, it's just that she can't help but wonder if Ashe will end up strangling Vaan.

Those thoughts are lost now, as she watches the others walking towards the bungalow – where the sellers are calling out, sparkling items in their hands.

**X**

Even the morning won't come. It is probably late, near sunrise, or not at all. But he's wide awake; his eyes are staring up at the cave's ceiling, where he's found many things to discover.

The dark and light shades moving, from the _drip drip_ sounds of water coming in through a small crack in the cave, creating a puddle, and casting shadows of chiaroscuro lighting; the pitter patter sounds creating a tattoo noise right outside is leaving him sleepless. He turns to look at the sleeping Ashe and re-thinks. No. _It's her_.

He can't sleep because she's there. It's the weirdest thing, because he's been sleeping with her and the others for weeks now. In cold tombs, camping with the Giza Plains humes, and shacking up over with Garifs for a few days rest – and only because there's just so much to do around there. Vaan's got his hands behind his head, the uneasiness in his body making his muscles move his leg nervously, over his knee.

He looks again at the Princess, sleeping _too good,_ jealous that she's able to slink away in easy slumber like that while he – feeling the groping rise of his need. It's not as if he is desperate or anything. He's got to admit to himself, that his loneliness is creeping up to him. And she's here, right beside him, and she's told him it's okay to _hold her_.

His hands are frozen, and he can't do it, even as the heat of him is permeating with need. Vaan just doesn't know what need _it is,_ and the way his eyes are stinging, he almost feels too pathetic.

Hand forming in a fist, his other is still cradling his head, Vaan squeezes, digs his short nails into the palm. _He can't believe he cried_. Not like this.

It's always about his brother Reks, when memories flood his mind – that time where he's visiting him in some kind of institution, where the walls are white. Reks sits there, the eyes are dull and lifeless, and Vaan is holding the same flower.

He can't ever think that it's over, because the tears then would stop, and _when has it ever been that tears just stop?_

Vaan hears her rustle, despite the hard ground. Rubbing his eyes, wiping away tears, he wants to sleep.

He's smiling a little, crooking an arm over – hesitant at first then relaxes over her body. He hopes that his dreams will take him away and come morning when the lightning and this loud thunder stops, she's there again, telling him what to do.

**X**

She wakes with a grumpy disposition, and ever Ashe, she's glaring at Vaan with impatience. She can't believe that he's sleeping there, curling close to her like a baby. Her eyes take in the way his arm is heavy on her, his face too close and the feel of his body _too hot. _

It's then that she touches the first break of sweat across her forehead. Her hand reaches up to push her damp hair aside, angry that she's in this position. At the same time, she's glad she's gotten soaked through, for when was the last time they all went for a bath? Not much, and worse was, if they're under the Nam Yensa sun, she can smell the stench of each of her companions. It's disconcerting to say the least. However, she is sure that she doesn't smell like a bed of the Palace's bouquets either.

Ashe is already up on her feet, securing all her clothing in place. Her armour is leaning against the cave's wall, and her sword, looking rusty is there alongside. She's hungry, and she's going to get some food.

"Vaan." She calls twice, three times and it isn't working. He's stretching a little, she sees, and notices that the vest is gone, and he's just as naked with or without. When she turns back to the opening, she also sees that the rain is letting up, but still there. At least it's not pouring hard, and she knows the rain brings food.

This still makes her upset, but she's not going to start moping about it. Despite the cold, the discomfort, and lack of items, her magick levels are up now. She's gripping the hilt of her sword, because she's searching for the blue and white fins along the water's edge.

**X**

_**Next: (preview)**_

He wants to kiss her, but he can't. He's stuck, frozen there, comatose really; as he wants to feel the anger, that same blinding rage he felt when he saw Basch. But he can't.

He feels all the street language of Rabanastre bubbling up, forcing him to say terrible things.

She just walks away like that, she's _a princess,_ he knows. And he can't help it if he wants to stare hard, boring holes into her back, as if this singes her.

_Please turn around! _

Vaan doesn't realize yet, until he hits the muddy ground, his knees buckling. And as his hand reaches up to rake his eyes, to find a tear there; this pisses him off even more.

He takes a deep breath, shuddering, and his clothes are still wet, caked with mud.

With a steady hand, he pushes against brown sand, and he pulls himself up.

Suddenly, he's running, fast on his feet, as he tries to catch up.

---


	3. Chapter 3

_**Vaan – How about some of this?**_

_-red spiral quickening-_

_xxx_

* * *

Ashe carries her sword and shield, setting quickly to find food. 

What she notices, before she's near the shore, is the heavy mist pushing in from opposite directions.

She wants to use her magick but can't since there's nothing to lock unto. Instead, she searches, sees that even the piranhas are moving away, clustering together for safety.

Her eyes stare straight ahead; hand reaching up to cover above them, as if this action will ward off the glare over the horizon.

She sees the streaks of white cutting through the sky. This illuminates, spreads the coast under an ashen flare, and she hears Vaan behind her.

As she turns, he's there by the entrance, watching too the phenomenal charge in the air. His body stiffens, and he rushes to find a sword.

"Ashe!" Vaan is now running towards her, "Watch out!"

He's pointing to the saturated mist, parting just enough to reveal a charging primordial dragon: its one of the ancient ones, which belongs here, imprisoned on Phon Coast.

**X**

The mist is suffocating; it's too thick, and the enemies are many. Smaller predators, they've encountered before - huddle close with silver eyes and sleek fur.

Vaan sees they're up against silver lobos and a dozen bagolys. But it's the Archaeosaur that he's worried about.

He looks over at her, gives a signal to chain – and she's nodding.

But it's a little too late as a large Archaeosaur lifts its jaw to slam against her shield. She's able to block it, leaving her wide open for the next attack.

She stumbles, and her body is being forcibly pushed into the sand.

Vaan's speed is swift, so he swipes with the tip of his sword, doing little damage; the ancient tyrant ignores it, swapping its sizable tail to push the hume back.

Instead, it goes after the female, its forward eyes easily tracking the movements of its prey.

When it's upon her, she's thrusting the sword straight into its heart. And receives a dangerous blow, getting pins and needles of sonic fangs in her body, and she's damaged on the red.

Vaan's anger is fierce, because it's impulsive and he is already kick-starting the energy from within. When finally the_ fury_ comes, _oh yes_, he's expecting it to be_ this_ powerful. Where it's coming from, seeping power out from his skin -- it feels tingly and hot. There's a _whorl of wind_, and he expects it's from _her,_ because she's of wind and fire, and everything that's real.

But he's gritting his teeth – the tornado is spinning, tops over the sand and brings it all together. It's reaching to the sky, cocooning every foe he focuses on.

"You're _mine!"_ Swerving his body sideways, he brings his hands together, parallel, so that when he's sending the wind up, _it's impressive_. Before the rushing tempest is low, she is there – ready to take his place.

The world is black for a moment and she's calling for the stars, and they're falling fast – threatening with a thousand tiny sparks, emitting celestial bright rainfall.

Ashe is murmuring that _she must be strong_, and it's easy, because she's destroying their foe just like that.

He takes up the chain, after her, repeating the process; it's the only time he can do this – he can _control the wind_, and she's everything like the wind.

_Vaan selfishly wishes_…..

He knows she's better free, and that's why he can't help it.

And when it's all done, they're breathing hard. He's standing with cuts and bruises, and his power levels are down.

When he gives her a lop-sided grin, showing white teeth.

She is smiling back at the gesture.

Vaan can see, clearly that she's worse than him, really, but she doesn't tell him this, because he knows. He's been with her through this journey too long. He understands that nothing is worse than complaining about woes when there's so much to do.

"Hungry?" He says this with a cheer; he walks on ahead, trembling a little from his quickening. And he hopes she doesn't see that he's hurting too, that the pain is unbearable even as he walks.

She nods, is famished, hears her empty stomach and is slightly embaressed. Her arms and hands are scraped terribly, and there's blood there, but she's confident that their magicks will rise soon.

And when it does, she will heal him before herself.

**X **

Ashe relaxes, feels the healing fire through her veins.

She makes this noise, releasing a soft sigh, almost in the throes of rapture.

He can't help but part his mouth.

Because she's about to cure him, and the anticipation is killing him.

**X**

Ashe finds the time to wash herself, hating the mud and the grime; for it gets beneath her shoes, and steals inside the clothing, sticking to her skin.

When they're sitting by the makeshift fire inside the cave, she's casting a look over. She's immediately pleased that he's here, wonders if this was by chance, a strange fate.

They talk about what just happened, and they're cautious more than ever. He thinks Balthier and Fran will find the way to get to them, confident on the skills of his sky pirate friends.

"They're like veteran sky pirates," he tells her, thinking more on the Viera's long life, as he's figured out her age finally, "and they can easily sneak into places no one else can."

She is inwardly smiling at his naivety; his enthusiasm; and is surprised further by his addition to mention Basch's determination and his friend Penelo's tenacity.

**X**

He discards that awfully small vest he's been donning for days, folds it away so he's topless, and somewhat distracts her. Perhaps it's their close proximity, but because of this, she notices the necklace he wears: its turquoise stone and tarnished silver capturing light.

She resumes to eating, bites into her food, finds it chewy; but her appetite is strong, and says after swallowing, "Where did you get that?" she points, "it looks familiar."

Her brows furrow, hopes it didn't sound like she is implying that he stole it somewhere. So she wipes away a little of the grease that's on the cooked fish with a delicate gesture and smiles.

He isn't offended that she's asking and is glad to offer, glad that she's talking to him more. He reaches for the necklace and takes it out, handing it to her.

"Would you like to take a closer look? I'm not sure if it's been in my family," Vaan shrugs, "I've had it a long time."

It's his turn to draw his brows together, as he can't really remember where he's gotten this. He assumes it is from his family, even though the only memory is of his brother long since gone.

"Oh no," she tries to say, "It's alright, I was just wondering, because I recall having one in my family's treasure room."

She is immediately pursing her lips. That isn't what she means to say, because she isn't angry at him for stealing what's not his before, not anymore.

Vaan feels a dull pain when she refuses, because he did want her to hold it, for some unknown reason. He is replacing it back around his neck, stealing a piece of plump meat afterward. When he chews, he doesn't see what she sees: that he is eating with haste, as if hunger is something he's used to.

Everything is quiet again. He sits back, watching the fire burn slow across the stick of munificent meat, the grease adding fuel as it drops. Vaan wants to say something more, something that isn't about family and what's gone.

She is near finished with her meal, and though, it isn't as tasty as tavern meal, it's as suitable as anything they've caught in the past. It nourishes her. Ashe is ready to tell him her plans. She's been thinking about it ever since, and just when her mouth parts. He is getting up, moving about in the small enclosure; his hands are nervous, a fist hitting on a palm.

"Listen, Ashe, I've got an idea, about how we're going to get out of here."

"Oh?" she decides to listen, because she thinks that he'll burst if he doesn't say his say.

"How about we dig ourselves out?"

She blinks, almost laughs at the idea. "Vaan, with what?"

He stops, kneels down, facing her, "We have enough powers don't we? I mean, you do. More than me, but I can help dig up the bulk, and how far is it from this strand to the next?"

She covers her mouth with her hand, because she is grinning at the idea. "I had a similar plan, yet; my offer isn't as daring as yours," she openly laughs, "nor as pain-stakingly physically tasking."

He likes to make her laugh, smiles at this, shows off straight white teeth, and he looks too _appealing_. "Oh yea," he adds with a snort, placing a hand over the back of his windswept hair, "oh by the way, your palace is really cool, but I think it'd be cooler if it weren't filled with all those Archadian soldiers. They're pretty dumb too, most of them."

He says this accompanied with laughter in his eyes, too blue for her to look away. And she's reaching for her cask of water. It cools her thirst, even in the early evening heat.

She licks her lips, unaware of the action it provokes, of how her companion is staring again. Ashe isn't aware of this, her voice soft, "you're thinking of the palace again?"

Unconsciously, he reaches a finger to rub the tip of his nose, "There's a guard in every section and I was able to get in there by yelling out, "Hey idiots! Over here!""

She muffled a laughter behind her hand, because he's animated, and purposely making a funny expression.

"And they listened?"

"Of course," he laughs, "I easily got away;" he's eager to tell her about the crests there, about the eagle, the lion embedded, too, but remarks on something else: "I was the one yelling out on the streets of Bhujerba – I'm Captain Basch!" And he says this with his hand up in the air, as if to confirm it.

"From Dalmasca," she adds, grinning, "no doubt."

He chuckles, leaning forward, "Just give me the word, and _I'll_ be _your_ town crier."

"The plan worked, and I'm glad." Her voice imparts this with partial melancholy, because she remembers too much on this journey.

He doesn't know that she's seeing Vossler's death in her mind; the fall of Leviathan; of the Espers they've fought and captured; or of Rasler's ghost following them.

He suddenly wishes he could sweep her up, to wipe away the sadness cloaking her eyes.

**X**

They realize that they're going to have to try their plans tomorrow, both agreeing to sleep an extra night.

She's positive the mist will lift, since she's going to use Belias.

Even as the sky is turning dark, blanketing the strand, she's glad that there isn't any rain this time.

Even as she thinks that, she is narrowing her eye, notices that the wind is picking up speed.

**X**

He's silent, watching her, and he feels a little uncomfortable. Taking a deep breath, he says without thought, "Wanna go check out the stars?"

Ashe doesn't want this, finding more unpredictability in Vaan's character. For a moments this quiets her; she slides her hand over to cover the remaining ring on her finger.

Vaan notices this, gets up and walks by the entrance. He only manages to turn when he's about to leave, "If you want to join me, I'll be over at the top of the cliff. I don't think there's anything to worry about."

He leaves and she knows what he means.

She's not going to go out there, because she's going to encourage him, and this isn't good.

But as the minutes tick by, she bolts up, and is already running towards the cliff.

There's no rain this time, but the wind is angry, bites into her eyes so she's straining against it. Her hand automatically blocks what she can, and she's screaming over the wind.

"Vaan!" she calls twice, three times.

The lapels of her jacket are making a flag behind her, her hair whipping about.

Her eyes are squinting against the climate, and she spots him, there.

The semicircle of the crag faces the water, as serene as he, with his hands planted on both sides. He's got his legs parted, a knee up with chin over one.

He is already turning to her, concern in his face, "Ashe," he mouths, and pats the seat beside him.

As easy as that.

She is setting her lips in a straight line, because she sees that there's no wind where he's at.

**X**

She's next to him, feels the incredible warmth, and in the last twenty-four hours they've fallen into an easy conversation again.

He's making her laugh, and that's always good.

Maybe it's the atmosphere, the company.

Maybe because she's healed, and he's happy, looking good.

And she can't explain it.

Worse is, she's preoccupied, so she doesn't hear it until its close: the sound of a thousand banners riding on the wind.

**X**

_The mist! _

Even as the mist is sweeping in, large wings span high in the cover of darkness, and Vaan's ready for what the mist brings, his hearing sharp.

He's already standing and ready to draw power from inside, "Come on, Ashe, it's another one!" Vaan yells, his fist closing over a weapon he's been keeping nearby.

She's on her feet, clumsy at first, shocked.

But they're being pulled up by the strength of the wind and the night, of the hellish creature that's bringing with it the ocean in its wake.

They're caught up in the tidal storm, swept underneath, until Ashe's head is above water, sputtering.

Her eyes searching for Vaan's, and he's not coming out, and there's panic in her heart.

She's screaming his name, in the tide, and just as quick as the storm came, the water reverses, drawing back into the ocean.

And she's being pulled; her mind is trying to be calm as she's being swept up.

She doesn't realize until a strong hand, his arm keeps her against a solid frame.

Lying on the ground, wet with salt water, her head is cushioned by the moist grass. He's on top of her, his breath close, ragged.

He's saved her somehow, and for the moment they've forgotten how the mist has brought unspeakable things.

She can't explain it.

Ashe is stunned, staring up at blue eyes, the intensity making her swallow.

**X**

She reaches up, determination staining her face, the light of fire in her eyes and her palm is against his face, cupping.

Her lips closing in and he's ready, because of the want, the need. She opens her mouth a little, pressed against his. And her body is arching up, for something and he's reaching for her.

"Vaan." She murmurs, breathless against his mouth.

"This is for you," and she says it as if she is granting him a privilege. Her breath catches, and she's starting to feel the tears in her eyes. He's been there for her, always, reaching.

But he's already there, holding her close, and _it feels so good_. He can't understand it, as he's been watching her for so long, following her every move and taking the reproofs.

She feels cool, wiped clean from the ocean's sting, and Vaan's shaking, moving his lips across her cheeks.

He breathes against wet moonlit hair, darker and lighter than his, "I told you, that I'm sticking with you."

_Yes_. She knows, because he'll find answers if he's with her, and somehow this pleases them both.

His hands are reaching over, touching her the way he wants to, and he doesn't know _how_ to hold her _– really_.

He can hear his own choked voice, as he slides lips against the corners of hers; he feels silent tears falling along the silk of her beautiful skin.

She's always been so strong, so inaccessible. Like one of those statues, of goddesses he's seen, covered in silken white-gold. And he – the thief, feels shame for the first time, _for wanting._

He knows that she's not making a sound, but he says it anyway, finding no other words. And all those clever things he wants to say, to give her laughter, just freezes up inside.

"Shhhh," Vaan says, consoling, and he doesn't understand why his heart is _bursting,_ wanting to pound through, "It's alright, Ashe, I'm here."

**X**

_Rasler. _

She is pushing against Vaan's chest, again. Ashe sees ghosts, of her past, and she is called back to her duty.

"Vaan, no," she shakes her head, too distraught, lowers her voice to damn herself. When she is arms length away, with his arms empty, Ashe is looking like the very first time he met her.

She's already on her feet, her eyes grey and light, the shot of blue piercing.

"We should go. We can't waste time like this," Her tone is cool, aloof, as if he's stolen something from her _again,_ or worse.

"Ashe…" he tries to say, but is cut off by her glare.

"No," she repeats, poised, "we've wasted enough time, already," then adds before showing her back to him, "Pray this does not happen ever again, _it must not_…"

**X**

He is helpless, standing there, looking like an idiot. Where moments ago, she's warm; she's like the wind and the fire, and he was going to kiss her -_ completely_. But…._.gods_: he doesn't believe in_ that_ nonsense, because they're deaf to his sorrows – where his tears go unanswered two years before.

He _wants_ to kiss her, but he can't. He's stuck, frozen there, comatose really; as he wants to feel the anger, that same blinding rage he felt when he saw Basch. But he can't.

He feels all the street language of Rabanastre bubbling up, forcing him to say terrible things.

She just walks away like that, she's a_ princess_, he knows. And he can't help it if he wants to stare hard, boring holes into her back, as if this singes her.

_Please turn around! _

Vaan doesn't realize yet, until he hits the muddy ground, his knees buckling. And as his hand reaches up to rake his eyes, to find a tear there; this pisses him off even more.

He takes a deep breath, shuddering, and his clothes are still wet, caked with mud.

With a steady hand, he pushes against brown sand, and he pulls himself up.

Suddenly, he's running, fast on his feet, as he tries to catch up.

xx...


End file.
